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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25136119">He Believed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchyBitchParker/pseuds/WitchyBitchParker'>WitchyBitchParker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, Emotional Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Optimism, POV Third Person, Pain, Unhealthy Relationships, threat of suicide</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 11:00:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25136119</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchyBitchParker/pseuds/WitchyBitchParker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He had once believed in love at first sight and everything. Believed in true love, an unapologetic feeling of pure and never-ending love, so all-consuming that it hurt not to be with that person.<br/>-<br/>short story about the shift of the relationship and how it all started and the eventual end and recovery.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Sirius Black/Severus Snape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>yo.<br/>sorry need to process emotions so y'all get a dark fic I wrote like five minutes ago.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He had once believed in love at first sight and everything. Believed in true love, an unapologetic feeling of pure and never-ending love, so all-consuming that it hurt not to be with that person.</p><p>It had started at the black lake when they had snuck out and gotten blazed as fuck on some very good stuff <strong><em>he</em></strong> had gotten from one of the Hufflepuffs. They spent a lot of time just gazing up into the sky and laughing at nothing at all. They had weird conversations and lied in the damp grass close to each other. And only when the conversation turned towards the idea of relationships he found out the person by his side had only ever had one drunken kiss whilst he himself had already been through a few relationships, some healthier than others and he could not help but notice that the young man beside him was beautiful and that he had perhaps developed a small crush on him.</p><p>“Want to make out?”</p><p>he had asked him and the taller man had replied yes higher than pterodactyl tits and very happy. They had decided they were dating after that. He was filled with something more powerful than butterflies and holding <strong><em>his</em></strong> hand became the greatest privilege.</p><p>It was perfect-</p><p>Sneaking around behind the teachers but their friends actually got on and it was nothing short of picture-perfect. He remembered all the times’ people had made disgustingly sweet comments - how they should mess with McGonagall and then have her officiate their wedding after they had only been going out a few months but they found it hilarious and maybe, he had to admit, maybe even played with the thought.</p><p>He remembered that they were a bit tipsy and high when they had first slept together and it was an interesting experience, surely it would get better he assured himself, ignoring that he had not been entirely ready for that step and did not enjoy the sensation much, before continuing to live in a cloud of cotton candy. </p><p>The love he felt and the trust he felt were entirely new sensations especially since he had started the relationship informing him he was probably not capable of love, an emotion he did not know how to contain when he began feeling it. He and his boyfriend were inseparable, they met every free second they could find and made out in places where they truly shouldn’t. Danced through classrooms when they knew no one was watching and laughed until they cried when they sat around together reading stupid books or shared stories.</p><p>He had met <em><strong>his</strong></em> parents first and they loved him so fucking much, <strong><em>his</em></strong> father had pulled him into a tight hug and he felt so comfortable. Like it was just meant to be.</p><p>He gave sappy speeches and received an equal amount of them and one day when they had to spend the rest of the day apart he thought that would <strong><em>he</em></strong> ask him to marry him he would say yes in a fucking heartbeat. Language became limited and insufficient to express what he was feeling for him it was limiting everything and it felt so unfair that he was feeling so many things and there were no words.</p><p>The Christmas break was excruciating for both of them and they both spent most of their time crying and missing each other, after only two months of dating. And it continued being perfect after Christmas, nobody, according to their friends, had ever seen a couple more perfect for each other. Both of them were battling mental illness and it was like two broken people so shattered they were meant to be pieced together as one. They were both fucked up and it made it work. He remembered the countless times of helping him through breakdowns and vice versa.</p><p>But then it became complicated, suddenly his emotions were wrong because whenever he was angry or sad or upset he spent the rest of the day fixing <strong><em>him</em></strong> because somehow his emotions were problematic for his other half. Somehow they were not valid and a mutual fixing became onesided since he became scared of showing his real emotion out of a lack of energy to then fix whatever shit would go on in <strong><em>his</em></strong> head because <strong><em>he</em></strong> was too fragile to handle someone else's emotions when all they really wanted was someone who was there for them as unapologetically and openly as he was for <strong><em>him</em></strong>. But <strong><em>he</em></strong> had BPD so it was ok he told himself making more and more excuses.</p><p>When he had to apologize for feeling so awful that he resorted to self-harm it set off alarm bells in his head. Why was it his fault he fell into manic states where he couldn’t just reach out, not like he actually cared in states like those. If someone were to tell him on days like these to please not hurt himself he would not give a shit.</p><p>Then the Dragon Pox pandemic sent them home and things turned awful, <strong><em>he</em></strong> was needy and he himself needed to breathe. The constant talking, constant having to disclose what he was doing and where he was going. He couldn’t do it. Slowly the effect the constant academic pressure wore off and he returned to his authentic self, someone who found sex uncomfortable and was not a nymphomaniac or comfortable sending explicit pictures, someone who was questioning his gender and sexuality, someone who believed people were replaceable and that feeling especially applied to <strong><em>him</em></strong> because he suddenly gave him so many reasons.</p><p>He felt nothing but pain whenever he smiled so <em><strong>he</strong></em> would leave him alone and felt good. So he tried to end what he thought was going to be his forever.</p><p><em><strong>He</strong></em> had threatened to kill himself so he took him back.</p><p><strong><em>He</em></strong> was equally as in love as <strong><em>he</em></strong> had been from the start and obsessed to an unhealthy degree, constantly reminding him that he was the only reason <strong><em>he</em></strong> was functioning, that <strong><em>he</em></strong> loved him and that <strong><em>he</em></strong> loved him so much and never wanted to lose him. When all he wanted was <strong><em>him</em></strong> to stop talking. He never broke up with <em><strong>him</strong></em> because <strong><em>he</em></strong> had things of sentimental value to him and he did not want to lose those things.</p><p>So he sat and waited.</p><p>In pain.</p><p>Hurt.</p><p>Full of self-hate because why was he incapable of love.</p><p>Full of hate because why did <strong><em>he</em></strong> not listen when he said he was not cool with feeling trapped when he said he was not much of a communicator.</p><p>Why were all of <em><strong>his</strong></em> emotions valid and somehow none of his were understandable enough to be recognized?</p><p>Sirius once believed in true love and he thought Severus was going to be his forever but these days all he did was beg to have some time to himself and hid what he was feeling to accommodate his boyfriend whom he still tolerated because he did not want to be responsible for the death of the man he still loved but not like that. Sirius used to believe in people not being replaceable when he had met Severus but he had been proven wrong. He felt awful and like the bad guy of the story but how was Severus’ trauma valid but his wasn’t?</p><p>But he had known from the start he was not capable of love.</p><p>People were replaceable. And he did not understand how he ever believed anything else.</p><p>The lie</p><p>
  <em>Love you too </em>
</p><p>Should not have fallen so easily off his lips.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Maybe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok so, since I posted this OS I got out of that fucking trainwreck of a relationship, so I decided to add a more positive ending because. <br/>So yea, kinda fun to make yourself feel bad by letting fictional characters live through the same or very similar events of your current life. </p><p>Also no hate to Snape, I low key live for him I just needed someone to be well -him-</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"No. It's not your fault just- my head. My head being mean. My thoughts being nasty. Demonizing my every action. Demonizing you."</p><p>"Thank you for explaining" <em>he</em> whispered before their ways parted for the night. Sirius spent the night doing nothing but drinking because there were these thoughts. How he should not have lied. For his own sake, for the sake of every person, <em>he </em>would get with in the future. How the more time they spent broken up, the more he realized all the shit he went through. How coerced consent is not good consent. How being shamed for not wanting to present ones own naked body was bad since <em>he </em>had no issue with it. How he had to be horny and willing at all times. How he, now, could not even think about enjoying sex, not because of Trauma but because it sucked and his crippling fear of intimacy thanks to <em>him</em>. He did not want to dwell on the intimacy, on the broken trust, on the utter lack of the ability to envision himself with someone male in a trusting long term relationship. So he turned to alcohol because it made it easier. Just for the immediate pain- he assured himself. </p><p>But then there were the letters. So many fucking letters. He had made sure <em>he </em>was aware that receiving any notes or anything from <em>him </em>could trigger another panic attack, manic episode, absolute breakdown. But he kept sending them, leaving them everywhere. But he did not cave in, allowing himself to be the evil bastard who broke an innocent man's heart. During a pandemic. He was the bad guy. And he lived with it. Alcohol helped a ton of course but he dealt with it. James was doing his best to be supportive of his friends, as did Lily. But Sirius was struggling massively. Every moment was hate, every letter of which he had not yet read the senders name was agony. </p><p>But it was not his fault. And if he would, one day, Snap. Tell the truth. then he was fully in his right to do so. It was the truth after all. It was not his responsibility to make the man who showed no fucking respect to his mental well being and courtesy if he kept demanding communication and contact. out of fear of being forgotten-  and he happened to tell the truth. It was not his job to make the man feel better about being toxic. Maybe the thought of hurting <em>him </em>by telling the truth was immeasurable, the fear of being made responsible for what <em>he </em>did to himself. But as much anxiety as he had- it was matched with anger. Anger over being manipulated, anger because it was not his fault. Because it was his right to be treated with fairness. Anger because he had the right to feel. </p><p>So what if he, drunkenly, sent a letter to a man he used to be involved with, in the hopes of feeling <em>something </em>again despite the psychological damage that 'involvement' had left him with. What if he did not know how to get himself out of the dumpster fire of a situation, and what if all the shitty memories he had stored away came back up again. What if he lost all certainty about deserving another chance. </p><p>But when he noticed that Remus looked particularly dashing as he recounted theories about the state and politics he did not feel guilty. Uneasy most certainly, yes. But when he thought about wanting to kiss him there was no guilt. No shame. he was not free of the memories and of the deep scar trying to heal in his heart and he was under no illusion that snogging strangers or crushing on a man with intelligence beyond his own was going to fix it, patch it up and make him feel safe and warm and fuzzy. But maybe - </p><p>Maybe it would be ok. </p><p>Maybe he would be ok. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Featuring a lot of the things I wanted to scream at the top of my lunges.<br/>I also feel the need to make sure that whoever reads this knows I am aware it was not all his fault. it took two people. <br/>TRIGGER WARNING- Toxic relationship things.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I HATE YOU" he screamed at the wall, not allowing the hot tears burning his eyes to drip down his cheeks. he wanted to yell and punch and shout and take it all out on Sinvelous. the fucking bastard. He hated him, he hated him so much and he was so fucking hurt and broken because of him. But he did not want to hurt him. Of course, he enjoyed the thought of hexing him and kicking him off of a building and watch him drop to his fucking death but he could never actually hurt him. Or so he had thought. Because he felt like his head was exploding with the words he never said, bubbling over with anger and hurt, all the shit he had to feel because of the rotten son of a bitch. </p><p>He wanted to hurt him as much as Sinvelous had hurt him. Get his sweet revenge. Scream at the top of his lungs about the shit he was going through because of the other man. But he knew that it might be the last straw. He knew from experience what it was like to feel responsible for the death of someone like he had not done enough to save that person. Like he should have tried harder to make them feel better. He knew the guilt and he did not feel like putting himself through that again. So Instead of screaming at the Slytherin, he screamed at his walls. Giving all the hate an outlet though it was so dissatisfying.<br/>
"I hate you. For making me love you. For your blatant disregard for everything, I told you. I said I didn't know whether I could fucking love and suddenly we were attached by the hip and I had no space to think. No oxygen to breathe. And when my mental state caught up with me it was too late. YOU ARE SO EXHAUSTING. I couldn't do it and you. YOU. YOU ASSHOLE. Your "mental health matters, I would never be toxic" MOTHERFUCKING ATTITUDE DOESN'T DO SHIT. because suddenly when I said I needed SPACE. TO GET AWAY FROM YOUR CONSTANT SEXUALISING ME. YOUR CONSTANT TALK ABOUT FUCKING WHEN I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF I LIKE DICK OR SEX BY THOSE MEANS. YOU BLAMING ME AND HAVING A GO AT ME FOR BEING UNSURE ABOUT MY SEXUALITY. FUCK YOU. Because when it got rocky you say you're gonna fucking kill yourself. How did you see our relationship working out after that? DID YOU EVEN FUCKING THINK FOR A SECOND THAT THAT WAS FUCKING TOXIC? I took you back out of guilt and didn't even get a fucking apology for all the fucking things you said to me that day. You don't get to play victim after directly telling me I would be responsible for your death. Suddenly everything you complimented was dread. You liked my hair- I wanted to cut it, my clothes, especially the ones showing off my chest tattoos- I stopped wearing them. EVERYTHING YOU SAID YOU LIKED ABOUT ME I WANTED TO CUT OFF, CHANGE. And then you talk about proposing two months later like nothing had happened. Like you didn't care I was not doing well. Like you didn't care you had taken away any platform for me to express emotions because it could only ever go one of two ways, I would need to then look after you because you couldn't handle my emotional state or you would just NOT LISTEN. I couldn't stay calm during your fucking breakdowns because I WOULD SPEND THE ENTIRE TIME TELLING YOU I WAS NOT IN FACT EMOTIONALLY AFFECTED BUT AS SOON AS THAT SHIT STARTED I WOULD JUST GET FUCKING ANGRY. how presumptuous that I feel everything you feel when you know full well that is not how I work. Everything you did you did from a place of love. I know. But when I ask you to respect my need for space after a breakup during which I never got an apology for the threat by the way, and you say sure. But then go on and on and send me letters. ONE OF WHICH WAS JUST ABOUT YOU LOOKING AT THE STARS FUCK YOU FOR NOT SHOWING ME BASIC RESPECT. I know about your mental health but you seem to forget about mine. constantly. get away from me. How am I going to ever be your friend when every time I see your face I feel pain and hate for the words I was to scared to say. How am I going to be your friend when you, even now keep talking about how you wanted to kiss me during the first party, talk about thee gift I got you for Christmas even after the breakup. FUCK YOU FOR TRYING TO HURT ME JUST TO GET MY FUCKING ATTENTION YOU ASSHOLE. Had I done the things to you that you did to me, emotionally. I can not imagine how much shit I would be getting for being a toxic asshole. But I shut up, try to be good, don't complain. And you just keep firing more hexes. You said you were scared I'd forget you- how can I if you don't leave me alone and are every person I never want in my life again. the reason I can simply not trust new people. YOU RUINED ME. I hate you. I just wish I respected myself enough to actually tell you the truth." he whispered and was met with nothing but the deafening silence of his walls. </p><p>"Pads, you good to go?" James shouted from downstairs<br/>
"COMING" he shouted back as though he had just not yelled at the walls in the hopes of being able to let go. Everything was normal. He was unaffected by the breakup. Why would be feeling anything?<br/>
After all, he ended the relationship.<br/>
There was no bad memories. That would be most silly. It had not been Severus' fault. How silly of him to think that. It was probably all his fault anyway. Like always. </p><p>He rushed downstairs, seeing a new letter. Terror gripped his heart and throat with its long cold and boney fingers, trying to choke him. But the letter was not for him. </p><p>He could breathe.<br/>
He smiled at Remus softly.<br/>
Everything was fine. Why would anything be out of the ordinary.</p>
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